Power Rangers Nexus: Beginnings
by Stellar Raven
Summary: Prequel to Power Rangers Nexus. How exactly DID the Power Rangers on Terra get started?
1. The Gathering

Power Rangers Nexus: Beginnings

Chapter 1: The Gathering

It was a Tuesday morning, just like any other Tuesday morning in the suburbs of Chicago. The sun rose, as it tends to do, and shone down warmly on the town below as it groggily came to life.

Deacon Parrish looked at his clock as he finished tying his shoes. 6 AM.

"Yep, it's time." he said to himself, getting up from his chair and walking out his

front door, locking it as he left.

Deacon climbed into his black Monte Carlo and turned the ignition, finding something to listen to on the radio before backing out of his driveway and driving off to his girlfriend's house.

Deacon pulled into the driveway of the Foxtooth residence about ten minutes later and turned off his car. Carefully, trying not to make a lot of noise, he got out of his car and closed the door. He walked up to the front door of the house and found it locked.

Grateful that her parents trusted him enough to let him keep a key, he pulled out his keys and looked for the one that fit this particular lock. Like a thief in the night, or so he liked to think, he silently opened the door and crept down the hall, stopping at the third door on the right.

Very carefully and quietly, he opened the door and looked into the room at the figure sleeping on her bed. After closing her door and stepping over the pile of clothes on the floor Deacon sat carefully on the edge of the bed.

The girl in the bed was short, only a few inches above five feet, with tangled dyed-burgundy hair. She was sound asleep.

Deacon grinned. Perfect.

He softly put his hand over her mouth and leaned over, whispering into her ear "Wake up, Gorgeous."

She sat up quickly in bed and ended up entangled in his arms, as he tried to calm her

down from being startled awake.

After a moment, Fox realized who it was that woke her and she calmed down. Looking her boyfriend in the eyes, she hit him hard in the shoulder. "You ass," she said affectionately. "Do you have to wake me like that every time?"

Deacon leaned forward and kissed her softly on the forehead "Yep" he replied "I

love the reaction it gets." He stood up. "Anyway," he said "Hurry up. We're gonna be late. And you hate to be late for our Early morning workouts at the gym, remember?" he said playfully as she climbed out of bed and pulled on her workout shorts and sweatpants.

"All right" Fox said, pulling a tee-shirt on over her green sports bra, "Lets go."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Jareth paced back and forth in front of the glass door, eagerly awaiting the moment that the nice people inside would flip over the Open/Closed sign and unlock the door. Who'd gone and decided that shops had to close at night? It was bloody inconvenient for those of the nocturnal persuasion.

Brushing back his long, dark brown hair, he glanced at the clock inside the shop window. Five till seven. In five more minutes, the place would be open. An hour after that, and it'd be bedtime.

Jareth stifled a yawn, then let out a gleeful "Squee!" as the fingers of some unseen hand flipped the sign over. Not two seconds after the bolt slid back, he was in the door.

Looking at the rows and rows of books on the shelves, Jareth breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of the pages.

Home sweet home.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Deacon and Fox arrived at the Gym at 7am, just as it was opening. Walking

inside, they showed their membership cards to the person behind the desk and headed for the locker rooms. In the men's locker room, Deacon changed into a pair of black lightweight baggy pants and a gray tanktop, while in the Women's locker room, Fox removed the sweat pants and teeshirt and was ready in her shorts and sports bra.

As they met outside the Locker rooms Deacon let out a low whistle at Fox's attire

"As always," he said, "this will be a pleasure."

"Yeah," she replied, "Especially when I wipe the floor with you."

"Ooh, Feisty," Deacon grinned. "I like."

"Shut up and lets go." Fox said in return.

The two made their way into a large room. Black padded mats covered the entire floor. They bowed towards each other and assumed their fighting stances.

Deacon moved in for the first strike, going low and trying to trip Fox. she managed to avoid the blow by performing a backflip, her foot narrowly missing his chin. She then spun around and attempted to kick him in the chest while he regained his footing, but he managed to catch her foot with his hands and sent her into another flip. This time she landed on her back.

Taking advantage of this he moved in and assumed a position over her, attempting to claim victory.

"Got ya," he said.

She smiled up at him. "I don't think so," she replied, as she countered his position and ended up straddling his waist. "Now who's got who?" she asked.

He smiled coyly "I've got you," he said, placing his hand behind her neck and pulling her down into a kiss that was both passionate and playful.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Excuse me," a voice said, causing Jareth to look up from his book irritably.

"Yes?" he asked.

The girl who'd spoken gestured for him to move. Belatedly, he realized that he'd been standing against the shelves to which she'd been trying to get. He hastily stepped aside. "Sorry."

The girl ignored the apology. Jareth squinted. There was something about her eyes that suggested that in her head, she was miles away. Jareth wondered if she'd even heard him.

The girl's clothing was all black, like Jareth's, but while Jareth was simply wearing pants, a sweatshirt, and a long coat, the girl was wearing an elaborate dress with fishnet sleeves that made her look as if she was going to a fancy dress party, albeit a somewhat morbid one. She was thickly built but not unattractive, and was wearing a great deal of sparkling silver jewelry, but that thing about her that really grabbed one's eye was the fact that her long, wavy hair had been dyed a shocking shade of electric blue.

As she began rifling through the shelves, Jareth glanced at the clock. Ooooops. It was almost 8. He'd have to get home and to bed soon if he wanted to be up in time to meet his friends at Blade Planet that night. Wandering over to the register, he paid for his purchase and walked out the door.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Night fell, as night does. The sun, being afraid of the dark, hid itself away, leaving only the moon and the stars to shine down on the city below. A number of lights went out, which was rather silly, considering that night was when they were needed most. The lights at Blade Planet, however, stayed on.

Blade Planet was the local skating rink. It was a popular hangout, mostly because it was open so much later than most places.

Jareth quietly strapped on his rollerblades, ignoring everyone else in the rink. As he rolled out onto the smooth floor, his mind blanked completely. The music they were playing faded out of his perception, the pulsating lights ceased to exist, and every other carbon-based humanoid life form, with or without wheels strapped to his or her feet, vanished. He just skated around the circular rink, feeling the wheels on his blades moving smoothly beneath him, the wind caressing his face.

This was why he came here. It seemed somewhat odd to him that he came to a place full of people to be alone, but only when he was elsewhere. When he was here, it felt perfect. It was the closest sensation he could think of to actually flying.

There was no telling how long he'd been skating when a voice finally broke through to him. If it hadn't been calling his name, it would most likely have gone completely unnoticed.

Glancing across the rink, he saw Deacon leaning against the wall that separated the skating floor from the rest of the building, Fox next to him. He skated over to them.

"Hey."

"Hey, yourself. I've been calling you for like five minutes," Deacon replied.

"Sorry. Wasn't paying attention. What's up?"

Fox shrugged. "Not a lot."

All three of their heads turned as a girl zipped past on her blades. She was tiny, smaller even than Fox, no taller than 4'10". Her outfit was drab, a yellow sweater and a pair of blue jeans, but the tricks she was pulling on her blades could have qualified her for the Olympics.

"Wow," Deacon said. "Look at her go."

"That's Terina," Jareth said. "She comes here a lot."

"You know her?" Fox asked.

"I know of her," Jareth replied. "And we've talked once or twice. She's pretty cool."

"How old is she?" Deacon asked, watching as she came around again, skating backwards.

"Not sure, but I think she's about our age. 16 or so. Just....short."

"I've never seen her at school," Fox said.

"No?" Jareth replied. "I haven't either, but I just figured she went during the day. Most people do. The night classes only have about half the people."

"Well, we're off to rent some skates. By all means," Deacon said, waving in the direction of the floor. "Zone back out."

Jareth happily obliged.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Everything closes too early in this town," Jareth complained, as he and his friends were shoved, rather rudely, out the door.

"Just be glad we have skating rinks," Deacon said.

"Yeah, imagine if you'd been born tribal. It's hard to blade on grass."

Jareth twitched. "What is it you civilized people have against the tribes? Over half the world is tribal, you know."

"Only because they don't know what they're missing," Fox retorted.

"Untrue."

"How would you know?"

Deacon cut in. "His father was a tribesman."

"Really?"

Jareth nodded.

"What was he like?"

"I never met him," Jareth replied. "But mom told me all about him. He stayed with her until Mara and I were born."

"His tribe didn't move on?"

"No. They stayed with him. Him and Mom."

"I thought the tribes were nomadic."

"They are, but it's customary for the males of the Dark Phoenix tribe...that's my dad's....to stay with the females that are carrying their children until the children are born. So dad had to stay with Mom, and the tribe had to stay with him."

"And they didn't get mad at him for that?"

"Of course not."

"Why not?"

Jareth shrugged. "That's the way it is in a tribe. All for one, and one for all, and so on."

"Huh. Well, I guess that explains your name."

Jareth nodded. "Dad named me, and mom named Mara. So I got the tribal name."

As the group turned the corner, a remarkable sight awaited them: A small girl, surrounded by a group of strange gray men, wearing what appeared to be rubber masks.

The gray men were attacking her, moving faster than any person, gray or not, had a right to move. But, to their surprise, despite being outnumbered, the girl seemed to be holding her own against them.

"Hey....that's Terina!" Fox cried.

Sure enough, the girl they had at first mistaken for a child was, in fact, merely unusually short. As they watched, Terina picked one of the gray men up, lifted him over her head, and threw him at another gray man.

"Strong girl," Jareth commented. "I wonder if she can handle them all....by...." Jareth blinked as he watched Fox and Deacon dive into the fray, kicking and punching at the gray men. He sighed. "Herself," he finished.

"What are you doing here?" Terina yelled.

"Helping you!" Fox answered, kicking one of the gray men.

"You're welcome, by the way," Deacon added, punching another.

Jareth, not bothering with the fancy martial arts, simply picked up a large rock from the side of the road, walked up behind one of the gray men, and bashed him upside the head with it. The gray man wobbled for a moment, then fell to the ground, out cold. Another saw this and took a swing at him, but he just held up the rock, allowing the gray man's fist to connect with it instead of him. The gray man let out a warbling howl, shaking his hand in pain, and soon got the rock just as the first one had and joined him on the ground.

Terina let out an exasperated "Rrrrgh!", then stood stock-still and closed her eyes. "Zeo Ranger Two -- Yellow!"

There was a bright flash, and burst of energy that knocked several of the gray men off their feet. Terina was gone; in her place was a girl wearing yellow armor that seemed to be made of a mixture of plastic and metal. She had a gun in a holster at one hip, and some sort of baton at the other, and her head was encased in a solid-looking yellow helmet. Her visor was jet black, shaped like two oblong, horizontal ovals, one atop the other, like an equals sign. Her belt buckle was a stylized letter X, with sharpened edges like a shuriken, clearly some sort of insignia.

The armored girl drew the gun and baton from their holsters. She gave the baton a flick, and it doubled in length, revealing itself to be a small sword. In a twinkling, she had combined it with the pistol, forming a rifle-type blaster.

The gray men froze, evidently afraid.

Deacon, Fox, and Jareth froze as well.

"Woah," Deacon said.

"Okay," Jareth chimed in. "THAT was cool."

The yellow girl raised the gun and fired, not bullets, but streaks of yellow light, each of which struck one of the gray men, producing a shower of sparks. The gray men that were hit fell to the ground. The others turned tail and ran. The yellow girl raised her rifle and took aim at them, but before they had gone ten feet, the gray men, both the ones running and the ones on the ground, abruptly vanished.

The yellow girl broke her rifle back into the pistol and sword and re-sheathed them. "Power down," she said. There was another yellow flash, and this time when it faded, Terina stood before them, glancing at them all appraisingly.

"Hey, Terina," Jareth said.

Hi," Terina said. She cocked her head to the side. "Yes...," she said, mostly to herself. "You're perfect."

"What?" Fox asked.

"I'll show you." Terina leapt forward, placing one of Fox's hand in Deacon's and the other in Jareth's. Then, grabbing Deacon's other hand in one of hers, so that they were all connected, she looked up into the sky and brought her remaining hand to the side of her head.

Then the world fell apart.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The world flashed white before her eyes. Electric sparks seemed to shoot through her entire body, as though she had fireflies in her veins. Fox tried to shake her head to clear her thoughts, but she couldn't seem to find it. She tried to move her arms or legs, but nothing was connected. She was about to panic when the effect faded, leaving her standing in a strange room, Jareth on one side, Deacon on the other, and Terina in front of them, clasping their hands together.

Fox yanked her hands out of those of her friends and hugged herself, looking around. The room was circular, full of strange looking computer consoles and control panels. The chamber was split-level, a shaped-shaped platform at the back raised a good two feet above the rest of the room. On the lower level, in the center of the room, there was a stylized letter X, the same insignia they'd seen on Terina's belt when she'd worn that outlandish yellow armor.

"Where are we?" Deacon asked, somewhat angrily.

"You are on the bridge of the Oasis, Potential Ranger," came a deep, resonant voice, seemingly from the ceiling. An orb set into one of the control panels pulsated along with the words.

Jareth froze, moving only his eyes, which shot around the room cautiously. "Who said that?"

"Perhaps introductions are in order," the voice said. "I am Zord-1, the primary computer of the Oasis."

"And the Oasis is...?"

"The Oasis is a spaceship, originating from the planet Eltar. It currently orbits the planet Terra at a height of approximately three hundred thousand feet, directly opposite Terra's moon."

"Why directly opposite the moon?" Deacon asked.

"The moon is where Zedd constructed his fortress," Terina answered. "Having the planet between him and us helps shield us from him."

"Okaaay," Fox said. "And Zedd would be....?"

"Lord Zedd is a demonic warlord," Zord-1 replied. "He is relentlessly power-hungry."

The large window at the front of the room clouded over, and the newcomers realized that it was actually a viewscreen. A row of shining gold coins appeared.

"Several thousand years ago, an Eltarian Magesmith named Medelon created the Power Coins. Within each he instilled great power. However, war broke out on Eltar shortly afterward, and, fearing that the coins would be misused, he transported them to a planet so small and insignificant, so far out of the way, that he thought they would never be found."

"Terra," Jareth said.

"Correct. However, approximately five centuries ago, Lord Zedd came to Eltar. He laid waste to the planet, defeated the planet's guardians, and located a map that revealed the location of the coins to him."

"What does this have to do with us?" Fox asked, watching the story play out on the screen as Zord-1 narrated it.

"I am coming to that. You see, Lord Zedd arrived here decades ago. He set up shop on the moon and began scouring the planet, looking for the coins. He has never been successful. Recently, however, he has been considerably more active. For example, just yesterday, he sent a monster by the name of Clepto to Terra."

"I didn't hear about that," Jareth said.

"No reason you would," Terina said. "It happened in Miami. And he only destroyed one house. We're not sure why."

"I believe it likely that we are near enough to the time that the coins will be discovered for Zedd to have magically divined information that we cannot access. The people killed in the collapse of that house would have likely played a significant role, had they survived."

"Once again, I ask....what does this have--"

"The guardians of Eltar were a fighting force known as Power Rangers. However, Terina is the last surviving member of that group. If Zedd is planning a full-scale assault on the planet, more Rangers will be needed to defend it."

"Zord-1 told me about the attack yesterday," Terina explained. "He said to keep my eyes open for potential Rangers to recruit. And, after seeing the way you guys were willing to help me out against those Putties..."

"Woah, woah, woah," Jareth said. 'Let...just let me make sure I'm following all this. You want us....to become...whatever she just turned into."

"A Power Ranger. Yes."

"Why us?" Fox asked.

"You know how many people would have reacted to that situation as well as you three?" the short girl asked. "Not many. Most people would either run off screaming, or started spouting religious propaganda about the end of the world. You three stayed to help me."

"And you're...an alien?" Fox asked.

"Well.....yes. Technically."

"Can we..you know....talk about this for a moment? Amongst ourselves?" Deacon asked.

Terina shrugged. "Sure."

Deacon, Jareth, and Fox went into a huddle.

"What do you think?" Fox asked.

"I think I've lost my mind," Jareth replied. "But....I'm just gonna go with it. You?"

"Same here," Deacon said. "Besides, if this turns out to be real, there are bound to be benefits to this job."

Fox nodded. They broke the huddle and turned back to the yellow-clad girl and the pulsating orb.

"I'm in," Deacon said.

"Likewise," Fox added.

They all looked at Jareth, who seemed to have gone all contemplative.

"Do we all have to wear yellow?" he asked, a pained expression suddenly appearing on his face.

"Not at all," Zedd replied. "The Rangers of Eltar drew their powers from an artifact known as the Zeo Crystal." The image on the main screen changed, displaying a beautiful, multifaceted crystal.

"The crystal is composed of thirteen subcrystals, no two alike. The color of the crystal determines the color of the Ranger." The image split apart, displaying ten smaller crystal shards and three scepter-like staves. Each was a different color.

"What's with those wand-things?" Jareth asked.

"Three of the subcrystals--the Gold, Silver, and Bronze ones, specifically--at one point found their way to a planet known as Triforia. The Triforians reformatted the subcrystals, incorporating them into a three-part staff. The Triforian Power Staff. However," Five of the crystals and one of the staves vanished, the row of crystals on the screen condensing to close in all the spaces where they had been. "Several of the subcrystals were lost during the battle that decimated Eltar. Only seven remain with me. They constitute my primary power source, though I have a backup battery off of which to run while the subcrystals power the Rangers."

"So, what colors are left?" Fox asked.

"Red, Purple, Gold, Silver, Gray, and...umm....Camouflage," Terina replied, ticking them off on her fingers. "Oh, and Yellow, but that's mine."

Fox's hand immediately shot up. "Dibs on the Camo."

"I'll take Silver," Deacon said.

"I'm in, too," Jareth said. "But only if I can be Gold."

"Done, done, and done," Terina said. "We're still short three people, though, and we might need a full team to face the sort of power Zedd has." She looked at her three new teammates, from one face to the next. "Anyone come to mind?"

Jareth cautiously raised his hand. "I....may know someone."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

After his friends got out of school the next day, Jareth led them and Terina down an obscure path through the forest on the edge of town, taking turns that were visible only to one who had been down this path before.

"Tell me this person doesn't live out here?" Fox implored.

"No can do," Jareth replied, ducking a low branch.

"Why? What's his deal?"

"Tribal outcast."

"What?"

"He was cast out for crimes against his tribe."

"Really?" Terina asked, simply walking under the branch, not bothering to duck. "What did he do?"

"No idea. He hasn't said, and I didn't think it polite to ask. Ah, we're here."

The path led to a wide clearing on the bank of a medium-sized lake, hidden from view on all sides by trees.

It was obvious that someone had been living here. Stretched between two of the trees was a hammock. In one corner there was a small table and chair, another area was curtained off, most likely for use as a bathroom. Tied to the branches above was a tarpaulin, hung in such a way as to protect the clearing from rain.

Deacon spotted a painting sitting on an easel, sitting off to the side. He recognized the artwork as Jareth's.

"Come here often?" he asked.

Jareth nodded, looking around. "I guess he's not home."

"Who's not home?" Fox asked. "Who lives here?"

"Angel," Jareth replied.

Someone stepped out from the trees. He was built like a football player, large and muscular, but his face bore an expression of implacable calm. He was dressed in a pair of black sweatpants and a blue longsleeved shirt, his hair was short and light brown. He looked approximately their age, but his demeanor made him seem somehow more mature.

"You called?" he said mildly. He glanced at Fox, Deacon, and Terina out of his storm-gray eyes. "You brought people here."

Jareth knew that Angel knew that he wouldn't have brought them here unless it had been important, so he didn't feel any great need to defend his actions. He explained the situation.

Angel listened closely, arms clasped behind his back. When Jareth got to the part about needing more Rangers, the large teenager turned and walked to the bank of the lake.

"And you want me to become one of these 'Rangers'," he said. Kneeling, he picked up a small, flat stone from a pile by his feet and tossed it, making it skip on the surface of the water.

"I know it may seem hard to believe--" Terina began, but Angel cut her off.

"I have never known Jareth to lie. If he says something is so, it's so." He skipped another stone.

Terina fidgeted for a moment. "So...will you? Will you come with us, become our Gray Ranger?"

"I am considering it. A matter such as this deserves some deliberation, does it not?"

Jareth nodded. "Take as much time as you--"

"I'll do it," Angel said, tossing one more stone. He turned back to the others. "We still have two more Rangers left to recruit, do we not?"

"We do," Jareth replied. "Let's go."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"What colors are left?" Fox asked, as the five of them walked back into town.

"Red and Purple," Terina replied. "Anyone spring to mind?"

"Yes, actually," Deacon said. "I've been thinking, and I know someone who'd be perfect for Red."

Deacon led them through the streets, on and off a bus or two, finally arriving at--

"The high school?" Jareth asked.

Deacon nodded. "And we're in luck...the football team's holding practice today." he pointed at the field.

Jareth couldn't help but sneer at the sight of all the apes in their football uniforms, pointlessly running around, tackling each other, and throwing a ball around.

"Please tell me we're not here to recruit a football player."

"No can do," Deacon quipped, grinning, throwing Jareth's own words back at him. He walked over to the fence that surrounded the field.

He waited until they were between plays, then shouted, "Hey, Bobby!"

One of the monkeys turned, pulled off his helmet, and trotted up to the fence.

"Deacon. What's up?"

"My friends and I have something we have to tell you. When do you finish?"

"Practice is over in about fifteen minutes. Meet you back here then?"

Deacon nodded. "Don't forget. It's important."

Bobby waved back to show that he'd heard as he ran back to the team.

About twenty minutes later, Bobby returned to the fence, dressed in normal street clothes.

"So what's up?"

Deacon explained the situation to him.

Bobby looked incredulous, to say the least.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Nope."

"Then you've lost your mind."

Deacon sighed. "Terina, could you show him?"

Terina looked around to make sure no one was watching. Satisfied, she closed her eyes and concentrated.

"Zeo Ranger Two--Yellow."

There was the flash, and the short, blonde-haired girl was replaced by the Yellow Power Ranger.

Bobby blinked, rubbing his eyes to make sure they were working properly.

"That's...a pretty good trick," he admitted. "Okay, assuming this is all real....why tell me?"

"We want you," Terina said, demorphing, "to be our Red Ranger.

Bobby considered, looking to the side. He thought for a moment, then turned back to the Rangers. He shrugged. "I'm yours."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Unfortunately, no one had any ideas for Purple. The group retired to Jareth's house, as it was the biggest and his mother wasn't home.

Jareth plopped down on the couch, turning the TV on with the remote, then setting it down on the coffee table. Deacon sat next to him.

"Six down," Terina said, leaning forward over the back of the couch, as Angel picked up a newspaper from the end table and started perusing it curiously. "One to go."

Fox looked over at Angel. "It's a newspaper. It tells people about--"

"I know what a newspaper is," Angel said, looking at Fox as though she had lost her mind.

"Oh....sorry. I just figured you wouldn't, you know...being tribal?"

"I must confess a curiosity. Do all civilized people imagine that tribalists are ignorant savages?"

"Most of them, yes," Jareth replied, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"Ah. Then it may interest you to know, Fox, that we enjoy many of the same conveniences you do."

"How?" she asked. "I mean, moving around all the time..."

"There are such things as cell phones. Portable generators, wireless internet access, small televisions....Nomadic does not equal barbaric."

"Back to the point," Bobby said. "Who are we going to get for Purple? I don't think many people are up for this gig."

"What about her?" Angel said, holding out the newspaper.

The others leaned in to see. The stoic one was referring to an article about yesterday's Monster attack. Only one house had been demolished, just as Zord-1 had said, killing an entire family. But there was a detail the computer seemed to have omitted: Someone had survived, a girl their age named Kalen Starrose.

"She does seem ideal," Terina said.

"Why?" Jareth asked.

Deacon shot a sidelong glance at him. "If someone killed your family, wouldn't you hold a grudge against them?"

As if on cue, a girl who looked like a female version of Jareth (if Jareth would ever, EVER dress in THAT shade of hot pink) entered the room, talking animatedly on the phone. Without any regard towards the people in the room that were watching it, she picked up the remote and clicked the TV off, then strolled out of the room.

Jareth glared at the back of her head as she left.

Deacon sighed. "Right," he said. "Stupid question."

"Besides," Terina said, ignoring this exchange, "Zord-1 said that whoever lived in that house would have played a significant role had they lived. Well, someone lived. She might be important."

"She's our candidate, then. But she's in Miami," Deacon said. "How do we get there?"

"Please," Terina said derisively. "Zord-1 can zap us from here to outer space in three seconds, you think he can't get us to Miami?"

"Oh."

"Tell you what. You guys go home, get some sleep, and I'll meet you back here tomorrow. Then we'll go to Miami and try to recruit our final Ranger."

"Sounds good," Fox said, yawning. "It's been a long day."

Terina nodded, then vanished in a streak of yellow light.

Jareth stared after her, wondering how she'd gotten through the ceiling.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

It wasn't raining.

For some reason, that seemed wrong to Deacon. It was always supposed to rain at funerals. Of course, intellectually, he knew that it couldn't possibly rain at EVERYONE's funeral, or the planet would drown. But watching so many funerals on television and in the movies, rain falling during them all, had conditioned him to expect it.

"You know," Jareth said, tilting his head to the side. "She doesn't seem depressed at all."

Deacon turned his attention to the girl they'd come to see. She was standing amid a crowd of people, presumably distant relatives, looking at the polished mahogany coffins that stood for everyone to see. Jareth was right. Kalen didn't seem depressed in the least to see the corpses of her parents and younger sister being lowered into the ground. If anything, she seemed bored.

"If she's grieving, she's covering it pretty well," Terina said. "Maybe she's not the best choice for this."

"We didn't come all the here for nothing," Bobby said. "I had plans today, and I blew them off for this. It had better not have been a waste of time."

"You're a Power Ranger now, Bobby," Terina said, smirking. "Get used to canceling your plans at the last minute."

"They're leaving," Fox reported, as the crowd wandered off, leaving the teenaged asian girl alone to pay her lasts respects.

Kalen sighed, watching them leave.

"Not long," Jareth said.

"What?" Deacon asked.

"The question she's asking herself. How long must I play along with this?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Look at her. The only reason she's attending this funeral is because it's expected of her. She would much rather be elsewhere."

"How do you know?"

Jareth shrugged. "I read people. It's a thing I do. And she's not exactly making it difficult."

"Well, she's alone. Shall we move in?" Bobby asked.

"Why not," Terina asked. She pressed her finger against the side of her head, behind her ear. "Zord-1, drop the cloak."

No sooner were the words out of her mouth than the air around them shimmered, like heat rising from the pavement. The effect lasted only an instant, then was gone.

Kalen started, her head shooting up, her ice blue eyes taking in the sight of the six strangers who had just appeared not ten feet in front of her.

"Hello, Kalen," said the tiny girl in yellow.

"Dare I even ask who you people are?" Kalen inquired.

The one in black, the one sitting on the ground, grinned up at her. "Oh, you're gonna love this."

Another one stepped forward. He explained why they were there and what they wanted.

"Well. That really is an enthralling story," Kalen said, when he'd finished. "But I'm afraid I must be off. Ta." Kalen began to walk away, but Deacon jumped in front of her.

"She doesn't believe us," Terina said, sounding slightly despondent.

"Oh, I believe you," Kalen retorted. "I'm just not interested. Excuse me." The girl made to walk past them to her car, but Deacon once again stepped in front of her.

"Please don't make me hurt you," Kalen implored. "It's all but impossible to get blood out of this sort of fabric."

"There IS one angle you should consider," Jareth said slyly.

Kalen glanced at him appraisingly. "And what would that be?"

"Our advisor believes that Zedd attacked your house because someone who lived there would play a significant role in the 'Great Power Coin Saga'."

"So?"

"So, supposing he attacked because he knew you would be considered as a potential Ranger?" Jareth waited a moment for the implications of this to sink in, then continued. "If that was the case, then he'll continue his assassination attempts. And if you refuse our offer, you'll have no powers with which to protect yourself."

Kalen tilted her head. "You make a persuasive argument."

"I try to see every angle."

"So are you in?" Terina asked eagerly.

Kalen crossed her arms. "I'm in. Until I find something better to do. Or until I can't put up with anymore stupidity."

Jareth grinned and got up off the ground, brushing grass from his coat.

"Then the League is set."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

In a rainbow of lights and a crackle of energy, the seven Rangers appeared on the bridge of the Oasis.

Kalen shook her head. "That was quite a ride," she said, mostly to herself.

"Don't worry," Jareth told her. "That feeling, like there's bubble wrap in your head? It stops happening after the first couple times."

"Good to know," she sneered.

"Ahem," Zord-1 said, clearing his speakers. "If I could have your attention for a moment. The time has come for you to be fitted for your equipment."

"What equipment?" Bobby asked.

A slight buzz crackled across the bridge, and every Ranger, with the exception of Terina, winced and grabbed at their heads as a sharp, stabbing pain lanced out from behind his or her right ear.

"What was THAT?" Deacon asked, as the pain quickly faded.

"You have now been fitted with your Power Ranger comchips. The pain should fade completely in a few seconds, though some slight discomfort may remain for a time."

"They do take some getting used to," Terina said.

"You planted chips in our heads?" Jareth said, glaring.

"There was a time when Rangers carried small, hand-held communicators, and later wore them strapped to their limbs, but the devices kept getting lost or stolen. It proved quite the inconvenience, so the Eltarians creative subdermal--"

"What exactly are they capable of?" Kalen said, the only person on the ship glaring more malevolently, if possible, than Jareth.

"They have a number of functions, among them Ship-to-Unit channels, Unit-to-Unit channels, Personal Locators--"

"Tracking chips," Jareth growled.

"When need be, yes."

"I'm out. Get this thing out of my head."

"Likewise," Kalen said.

"There is no need to remove the chips," Zord-1 said calmly. "If you do not wish to be tracked, simply deactivate your chip's locator function."

"We can do that?"

"Do keep in mind that I am a machine. I am programmed to serve the Power. As Rangers, you represent the Power, therefore, I and all my technology are at your disposal. You, and only you, have control of what your chip does."

"How do we turn off the locators?"

"Much of Eltarian technology is thought-responsive. Simply concentrate on the desired function, then press down on the chip to execute."

Jareth did so, and was rewarded with a muffled beep.

"Did you hear a beep?" the computer asked.

"Yes," Kalen replied.

"Didn't you?" Jareth asked, looking at Deacon. "It was muffled, but it wasn't THAT quiet."

"The chips are tied directly into your auditory neurons," Zord-1 said. "Only the Ranger within which the chip is implanted can hear the sounds it produces."

"Handy," Fox said.

"Not nearly so handy as this, Camouflage Ranger."

There was another buzz, and a rush of energy raced through each Ranger.

"What was THAT?" Deacon asked, his head spinning.

"You have each just been connected with your Zeo Subcrystal, the source of your powers."

"How do...." Jareth trailed off. He had been about to ask how to use them, to transform into the armor, but found that he already knew. "How do I know?" he asked instead.

"I have downloaded the necessary data directly into your brain via your comchips."

Jareth shuddered.

"I wish you wouldn't do things like that," Kalen said.

"Then you have only to ask me not to. Remember, I serve you."

"Don't download anything into my brain," she ordered.

"As you wish."

"Nor mine, unless I ask for it," Jareth said. Then, as an afterthought, he added, "And don't scan anything FROM it, either."

"Very well."

Kalen shot a surprised look, first at the computer, then at the Gold Ranger, who shrugged. "It seemed to make sense that it could work both ways," he said.

"You stay out of my head," she ordered the pulsating orb.

"As you command, My Empress," the computer said, a sardonic tone creeping into its voice. "You now have all the standard-issue affects of a Power Ranger," it continued, addressing them all. "There are other resources available, should you wish to inquire about them later. However, I recommend that you all report to the arena or simulation decks to try out your new abilities. You will want to be familiar with them when the time comes to use them in real combat."

The Rangers obediently filed out of the room towards the elevators.

Most of them, anyway.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

**"Zeo Ranger Two--Yellow!"**

**"Zeo Ranger Five--Red!"**

**"Zeo Ranger Eight--Camo!"**

**"Zeo Ranger Nine--Gray!"**

**"Zeo Ranger Twelve--Silver!"**

After the dazzling lightshow that always accompanied morphing has passed, the Rangers examined their armors.

"Hey...they're all the same," Fox complained. Indeed, except for the colors, and the shape of their visors, the armors were identical.

"Well, Zord-1 designed them," the small Yellow Ranger explained. "Computers aren't exactly well-known for their creativity."

"Well," Deacon said. "Mine's kinda different."

"So it is. But a vest isn't much of a difference," Terina said, cocking her head to the side. "Something the Triforians did to the Silver crystal must have changed the way your suit turned out. Gold and Bronze probably have vests, too."

"Shall we begin?" Angel asked.

"Sure. Zord-1, Bring up my simudeck program, please?"

Terina and the other Rangers blinked at the small, cubical, white-walled room dissolved into a large, tropical garden, full of elaborate birdbaths and beautiful topiary.

Fox wasn't sure which was more remarkable...the fact that they could feel the warmth of the air, smell the fragrant honeysuckle, hear the buzz of the hummingbirds so clearly even through the armor she was wearing....or the fact that this small, white room could produce such realistic illusions.

"Umm...no, not THAT one," Terina said, sounding embarrassed. "The other one."

Jareth entered the room, just as the scene dissolved, the garden becoming a large, rollerblading rink.

"I think I liked the last one better," he said.

"Where were you?" Deacon asked.

"I stayed to check out of some of those options Zord-1 mentioned. So did Kalen. She's in her room now, redecorating."

"Her--"

"Her room, yeah. We each get a bedroom here on the ship. And you can alter it in any way you like. Change the color, the dimensions, anything. You can even order your own furniture."

As he spoke, the Gold Ranger was looking around the room, eyes wide, blinking far more often than normal.

Deacon looked around. "Yeah, it's a cool illusion, isn't it? Hard to believe this is all happening in a 10' by 10' chamber."

"Huh? Oh, Yeah. It is. Why are we in a roller rink?"

Terina shrugged. "I figured you could use this as a place to try out your new powers. Maybe later you guys can program your own Sims."

Jareth shrugged, then closed his eyes. **"Zeo Ranger Six--Gold."**

Deacon found that due to the his helmet's visor, he didn't need to shield his eyes from the flash of golden light.

"Hey, you were right," Fox said to Terina. "Gold gets a vest, too."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The Rangers spent the night in their chambers on the ship. The sleepover was easily arranged....Jareth called home and said he was staying at Deacon's, Deacon said he was staying at Jareth's, et cetera. They'd pulled it often enough when they were staying somewhere they weren't allowed to stay.

The next morning, Jareth discovered the lounge.

The room was huge, oblong, with circular openings at one end, doors at the other, a huge television screen along one wall, and with a massive, absurdly comfortable couch in the middle. Scattered between the couch and the remaining wall were a number of small tables, each of which could be programmed to project holographic gameboards and the like.

"This is the coolest thing EVER," Jareth said, flipping though the channels with the high-tech remote. "It gets every channel, Dea."

"So?"

"Nono, you're not hearing me. It gets _every channel_. I can watch South Park in Portuguese."

"Impressive," the Silver Ranger replied, leaning over the back of the sofa. He glanced over at the circular holes in the wall. "What are those for?"

"Dunno. Ask the ceiling," Jareth replied, not taking his eyes off the TV.

"Zord-1? What are--"

"Those are the Lounge's jumptube ports."

"Jumptubes?"

"The jumptubes are a network of large tubes that run throughout the ship. There are openings in nearly every room, and on every level. Simply input your destination, then jump in, and the tube will shuttle you to wherever you wish to go."

"Cool. Can I try them?"

"Certainly."

Deacon walked over, grasped the horizontal metal bar mounted on the wall above the port, and swung himself in. About half a second later, the next tube over spat him right back out into the lounge again....headfirst.

"Oww...," Deacon said, rubbing his head. "What happened?"

"You neglected to input your destination prior to entering the tubes."

"Oh."

Abruptly, small, domed lights popped down from their sockets in the ceiling. Red, spinning strobes began flashing throughout the room, sirens blaring.

Jareth clapped his hands to his ears. "Is that REALLY necessary?"

The sound abruptly stopped. "No, I suppose not," Zord-1 replied. "Rangers, please report to the bridge.

"Kay." Jareth walked over and typed a few buttons on the pad beside the port, then dived into the jumptube network.

Deacon made to follow him, then thought better of it.

"I'll....use the door."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Once all the Rangers were assembled on the bridge, the screen at the front of the room lit up, displaying a hideous, insectoid monster.

"That's him," Kalen whispered.

"Rangers, this is Clepto."

"He steals things?" Deacon asked.

"No, I'm afraid he just kills people," the computer replied. "He is currently attacking a tribal settlement in mid-North America."

"Why?" Terina asked.

"He's a monster," Jareth replied. "That's what they do."

Terina shrugged. "Good enough."

"Rangers, you must morph and prevent this attack."

"Right, we're Rangers, that's what WE do," Deacon said.

"Then it's showtime," Jareth said.

**"Zeo Ranger Two--Yellow!"**

**"Zeo Ranger Five--Red!"**

**"Zeo Rangers Six--Gold."**

**"Zeo Ranger Ten--Gray."**

**"Zeo Ranger Eleven--Camo!"**

**"Zeo Ranger Twelve--Silver!"**

**"Zeo Ranger Thirteen--Purple."**

In a dazzling bust of color, the seven armored Rangers vanished from the Oasis.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The warrior whirled his nunchuckus, delivering crushing blows to two of the strange, gray, plastic-faced men that were laying waste to the camp. It seemed that no matter how many fell, there were always more to replace them. Already, more than half of the tribe's warriors had fallen.

He glanced sharply across the burning village, just in time to see one of his friends get struck down by one of the gray men's axes, a look of shock on his face below his traditional gelled-hair horns.

The large insect leading the gray men laughed derisively, firing a blast from his antennae that struck the food store, setting it ablaze.

They'd been going about this the wrong way, he realized. They needed to take out the leader first.

Grasping his weapon firmly, the warrior rushed at the insect. He struck the massive bug as hard as he could, but the beast hardly seemed to feel it. It looked down at him, then, with a careless wave of its arm, sent him flying as though he were a pebble.

He hit the ground hard, but tried valiantly to regain his feet. He had to drive this thing off, or it'd bring an end to everyone and everything he cared about!

A rainbow flashed before him, and there stood a row of seven strangely-armored people, identical except for the color. The rainbow people dived into the sea of gray men, mowing them down like grass.

This was his chance. He had to strike at the insect again. It had to have a weakness. He began to run towards it, but a solid blow connected with the back of his skull. His eyes rolled back into his head, and he fell to the ground, out cold.

"Sorry, bro," Deacon said. "It's for your own good." Drawing the gun from his hip, he blasted out a wide, deep furrow in the ground and nudged the unconscious warrior into it.

By now, the Putties were beaten, those not destroyed were on the run. There was no one left but the Rangers and Clepto....sadly, only a few of the tribespeople seemed to be left standing, trying to tend to their fallen.

Kalen glared across the field at Clepto. Before she even knew what she was doing, the Purple Ranger was closing the distance in long strides, simply shredding her way through the Putties unfortunate enough to be in her way. Drawing the small saber from her belt and extending it to its full length, she began savagely pummeling the large, insectlike monster.

"Hey--Oww--You can't--," Clepto cried, trying vainly to defend himself from the shower of crushing blows.

"You! Took! Away! My! LIFE!" Kalen shrieked, emphasizing every word with another skull-shattering strike.

Most of those in the area....Rangers and Tribespeople alike....stopped what they were doing and turned to watch, jaws dropped.

"I guess she did care," Fox whispered.

Jareth elbowed Terina in the ribs, having to duck down slightly to do so. "And YOU didn't want to make her a Ranger."

"Should we help her?" Angel asked.

"Why not, we'll get home sooner."

Each of the rangers drew their weapons, combining them into laser-rifles, just as Terina had done the first time they'd seen her morph.

"On 3," Deacon said. "1..."

"3," Jareth finished.

The six Rangers fired simultaneously, Kalen ducking out of the way just in time to avoid being blasted.

Clepto screamed as the combined power of the concentrated beams heated his carapace. Sparks began flying from each of his segmented joints, his antennae shriveled and began to singe. His scream became a deafening squeal.

Finally, he exploded, not in the shower of green goo some of the Rangers had been expecting, but rather in a massive fireball that engulfed the entire area....and everyone in it.

Fox flinched as the sea of fire washed over her....but she didn't feel more that slightly uncomfortable. Her armor, she realized, was protecting her from the flames, though fire was still all that she could see.

As quickly as they came, the sea of fire ended.

Jareth shook his head. "Hey....he's gone. We did it. We killed him."

"He's not all we killed," Angel said, gazing around him, his face unreadable beneath his helmet.

Most of the Ranger's jaws dropped. All around them were charred corpses of the tribespeople, who had, after all, not been protected by magical armor. Not a single one remained.

"I....I never would have done that if...if I'd known...," Bobby began.

"None of us would have," Deacon said.

"We'll have to be more careful in the future, I see," Kalen said. "If only to avoid a lawsuit."

"You're really broken up over this, aren't you?" Fox said, glaring.

"Why in the world would I be?" Kalen asked. "After all, I'm the only one who DIDN'T cause this."

"I have an idea," Jareth said brightly. "let's point fingers and throw blame. That'll bring them all back and make it all better again."

"Jareth is correct. Blaming each other will accomplish nothing," Angel said.

For a few moments, they simply stood there.

"Let's get back to the ship," Bobby suggested.

There was a murmur of general assent, and in another rainbow flash, the Rangers were gone.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Several hours later, a warrior awoke. He shook his head, to free it from both his disorientation and the dirt in his gelled hair. Groaning, he pulled himself to his feet and climbed up out of the ditch that he'd somehow fallen into.

A look of horror transfixed his face as he surveyed what had once been his home. The buildings were ruined husks, and his people were no different.

His heart racing, he rushed towards the house he had shared with his betrothed, hoping against hope that she would be okay.

She wasn't.

Tears running down his face, he turned and stumbled out of the house.

They had done this. The gray men, and the ones in their multicolored armor. They had brought their war here, and destroyed everything he knew, everything he loved.

They would pay.


	2. The Map

_Author's note: No, you're not imagining it…this IS actually an update!_

_I TOLD you guys I'd get more done eventually. And you doubted me. Tsk._

Power Rangers Nexus: Beginnings

Chapter 2: The Map

With all the enthusiasm of a man watching paint dry, the Enforcer laboriously filled out the small slip of paper in his hand and stuck it under the windshield wiper of the car next to him.

_City the size of Destiny, you'd think there'd be some actual crime to fight, _he mused. _But no, I'm stuck filling out parking tickets. _

He sighed, resuming his patrol down the dark sidewalk, watching as the shadows his body cast in the glow of the streetlights shifted as he walked. _Another victory for justice, _he thought flatly.

As he passed by the movie theater, he eyed the large group of people that exited. Kids mostly, but they weren't troublemakers…

_Kids? _He repeated to himself. _Please. Some of those people are older than you. You grew up too fast, OFFICER. You ought to be going to movies and hanging out with friends. Not issuing parking infractions._

As he passed by the crowd, one of the stragglers passed near him. There was a sudden itching sensation, across his scalp and down the back of his neck, and he turned automatically, grabbing her arm just as she was pulling her hand…clutching HIS wallet…from his pocket.

It was a teenaged girl, no older than sixteen, seventeen tops, with long yellow-blonde hair that reached down to her waist, dressed unassumingly in blue jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt. Her ice-blue eyes were wide, not with fear at having been caught, but in simple, utter shock.

"You…you caught me?"

"Damn straight I did," the Enforcer replied, snapping out of his own surprise. He didn't know how he always managed to react to things like that, but it had never let him down, one of the main reasons he'd made it through the Academy so quickly. He pulled out his handcuffs and slapped them onto the girl's wrists.

"You're under arrest…," he began….but then the sensation started again.

Instinctively, he grabbed the girl and leapt aside, just as a massive figure dropped from one of the rooftops above, landing on the exact spot where they'd been standing.

The two of them went sprawling, from the sidewalk into the street, scraping themselves to some extent on the sidewalk.

The Enforcer helped the handcuffed girl to her feet and herded her behind him, then turned towards their assailant, half-expecting to see some drug-crazed bodybuilder, or at worst, something along the lines of an escaped circus gorilla.

What he saw was not a gorilla. It had roughly the same proportions as a gorilla, but its fur and facial features more closely resembled those of a Bengal tiger. The beast drew back its head and let out a savage roar, then began to take a few heavy, lumbering strides towards them.

With a surprisingly steady hand, the Enforcer drew his sidearm and fired four shots, one to the forehead and three to the heart, all of which struck unerringly.

And ineffectively. The…thing…kept on coming. Only now it was annoyed.

Holstering his useless weapon, the Enforcer turned around and grabbed the girl, pulling her along behind him.

"Run!"

His prisoner didn't need to be told twice. She fell into step next to him, their boots striking the asphalt and echoing loudly down the alleys that branched off from the main road.

The beast chased them for a good five minutes before it finally cornered them down an alley.

"Brilliant," his captive said bitterly. "Next time we're running for our lives, _I'm _planning the escape route."

"I was in a hurry, okay?" the Enforcer snapped. He drew his gun and leveled it at the monster again. It had proven ineffective last time, but it was all he could think of.

"The eye," the girl said.

"What?"

"Shoot it in the eye. Nothing can take a bullet to the eye."

She had a point. Taking aim, he squeezed off a single shot.

There was an explosion of blood from the back of the beast's head. It leaned back with the force of the shot, falling over backwards and landing with a heavy THUD.

It twitched a bit, then fell still…and as soon as it did, its body began to glow, slowly dissolving into a swarm of red-gold sparks that rose up into the air, fading away, leaving nothing behind to suggest that it had ever been but a few pieces of trash that had been squashed when it had fallen on them.

The Enforcer let out a long, shuddering sigh of relief.

"What the hell," he asked rhetorically, "Do I put on the timesheet for this?"

Abruptly remembering his pickpocket, he turned to look behind him.

The alley was deserted, but lying on the ground were his handcuffs, along with a note that had been hastily scribbled on a napkin.

_May you always remember this as the day you ALMOST caught the world's greatest pickpocket._

_Nice try, though._

_-JM_

He sighed, crumpling up the napkin and tossing it away.

"Great."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"What are you doing in here?"

Jareth's deep green eyes didn't even waver towards the speaker…he knew perfectly well what Fox looked like.

"I'm looking at this crystal."

"Yeah, I can see that. I _meant, _what are you doing in the Crystals and Minerals exhibit when we're supposed to be with the rest of the class, looking at the Assyrus-Ra exhibit."

"I like shiny things better than dead things?" he suggested. "Check this one out."

Fox walked over to stand next to him, leaning down to look at the jewel that had him enthralled.

The shard he was examining was glasslike, smoothly cut along one side and rough on the others, as though a corner and one edge had been splintered off from a larger, glass cube. It was about three inches long, and it was a pale clear-blue, although seen from the right angles, rainbow-patterns refracted within.

"Pretty," Jareth said.

"Yeah, it kinda is," Fox agreed.

"Think it's worth my time to try and steal it?"

"Hey, if you think you can get through the shatterproof glass, be my guest."

"Valentine! Foxtooth!

The two teenagers glanced over to see a severe-looking woman in her mid-forties beckoning to them. "Get in here with the class! I want you two where I can keep an eye on you."

"Coming, Ms. Falstaff!" Jareth replied in a patronizing tone.

"Heh. Gee, you'd think we were troublemakers or something," Fox muttered.

Jareth chuckled. "Is she always like this?" he inquired, falling into step next to her as the two of them began to follow along with the rest of Fox's class, keeping to the rear of the group.

"Always," Fox bemoaned. "And she hates Nocturnes, by the way, so watch your step."

"Really? Why?"

"Something about being lazy, cowardly malcontents who are too obstinate and perverse to join the rest of Diurnal society."

"Oh, of course," Jareth said seriously, nodding.

The conversation was interrupted as a shaggy-haired blonde boy bumped into Jareth, almost knocking him over.

"Watch where you're going!" the stranger snapped, continuing on in the other direction.

Jareth glared at the kahki-clad boy as he walked away. "Asshole," the Gold Ranger muttered.

"Just ignore him," Fox advised, grabbing his arm and pulling into step beside her. "Hey, thanks for coming with me on this stupid trip. I know you'd rather be sleeping…"

Jareth shrugged. He generally attended night school, and was thus never in the same class as either of his friends. "I was never one to miss a field trip," he replied. "I can sleep anytime. But why not ask Dea? Isn't he actually IN this class?"

Fox snorted. "Deacon, in a museum? That'll happen."

"I'm sure you could have found a way to persuade him," the boy replied slyly.

"Well…"

"Oooh, you're turning red. What aren't you telling me, Kim?"

Fox sighed. "The truth is, Deacon…wasn't allowed to come."

"No? Why not?" Jareth asked.

"Well, two days ago, we were…you know…"

"Fornicating like wild spider monkeys?"

Fox raised an eyebrow at her friend. _How exactly do wild spider monkeys…? Never mind._ "Um, yeah. Sort of."

"And this is unusual, why?"

"Well…we were kinda doing it in the janitor's closet. At school."

"Again, not unusual. That's what that closet's for. There are notches carved on the mop handles."

"Yeah, well…" Fox's gaze fell to her boots. "…wegotcaught." She muttered in a rush.

"'Scuse me?"

"I said we got caught, okay?"

"Oh. Ohhhh…Well. That had to kinda suck."

"Yeah. We both got detention. And since Dea already had two infractions…"

"One for this, one for the time he and I snuck into the locker room and filled the entire football team's cleats with whipped cream…what's the third?"

"The time he rigged up that paint-balloon to hit Heather Davies in the face when she opened her locker."

Jareth chuckled. "Oh, yeah. I remember that one. I showed him how to do that."

Fox nodded. "I kinda figured. That contraption screamed of your handiwork. Anyway, he had three strikes. So no more field trips for the rest of the year."

"You know, if he hadn't used his own textbook, with his name in it, as the counterweight for that paint-balloon launcher…"

"He'd have never been caught? Yeah. But hey, it wasn't like he was ever gonna need it. I mean, it was a Math book."

"Fair point."

Their conversation fell short as Ms. Falstaff gestured for silence, including a harsh glare in their direction. Once satisfied that her class was paying attention, the teacher nodded to the museum tour guide, who began describing the exhibit.

"Assyrus-Ra," the guide said, no doubt trying to sound ominous. The effort was thwarted by his high, bratty-sounding voice. Assorted giggles could be heard throughout the room, but were quickly silenced by a harsh glare from Falstaff.

"The great pharaoh Assyrus-Ra ruled over six thousand years ago, carving an empire from a bleak, barren region barely capable of supporting life. He held power for nearly a century. According to legend, he had nearly godlike powers, which he claimed were given to him by the sun-god Ra."

"Ra, huh?" Jareth murmured, as the guide continued extolling the virtues of Assyrus-Ra's empire. "I bet Hel could take 'im."

"You're on," Fox accepted. "Five bucks on Ra."

The two feel silent again as Falstaff turned her evil eye on them.

"Assyrus-Ra was a cruel tyrant, and his people loathed and feared him. Eventually, his five high priests decided that it was not Ra who had given Assyrus-Ra his power, but some foul, demonic entity. They betrayed and murdered him, ending his hundred-year reign."

"That's a lot of rain," Jareth muttered. "Kinda puts that old Noah's Ark story to shame, huh?"

Fox elbowed him, and he snickered.

"Despised or not, Assyrus-Ra was still a pharaoh, and the High Priests buried him with all due ceremony, except for one small detail. Instead of burying his preserved organs with him, they scattered them among the neighboring tombs, in order to prevent him from ever rising again."

"You'd think just taking them out in the first place would prevent that," Fox suggested.

They stood in relative silence as the guide described the process of mummification to them.

"Ew," Jareth said simply, when he had finished.

"Yeah, I'll take the standard cremation when I go, thanks," Fox agreed.

"And now, if you'll all follow me into the adjoining chamber, we'll have a look at some of Assyrus-Ra's personal possessions, including the great Tablet of Ra."

"Ooh, a really old rock. How thrilling."

"Maybe it'll have pretty pictures on it?" Jareth offered.

The two followed the rest of the group into the next room, which was partitioned off from the main chamber by a thick red curtain. Display cases lined the walls, full of ancient Egyptian artifacts, including gold, jewels, household items, pots, jars, mummified pets, and a pair of large, animal-headed jars.

The guide was gesturing to a golden tablet that hung on the wall. It was heavy-looking, engraved with cryptic symbols, and broken in half, its bottom edge a jagged, rough crack.

"…Or maybe it'll be made of solid gold," Jareth amended, his irises seeming to swirl as he narrowed his eyes at the tablet.

"Maybe," Fox agreed, subdued.

"Behold, the Tablet of Ra. Supposedly given to Assyrus-Ra by the sun god himself. Historians have labored for decades to translate the writing on this slab, but to no avail."

"Probably a recipe for deep-fried locust," Jareth quipped.

"Instructions on how to avoid being mummified," Fox offered.

"Silt-farming tips?"

"Directions to the pyramid's bathrooms?"

"Foxtooth! Valentine!" the teacher hissed.

"Sorry, Ms. Falstaff," they muttered in unison.

"I thought those Eltarian lenses let you read any language?" Fox whispered.

"Yeah, I know. It's weird, but I can't make out what this thing says. There's no translation. I mean, I can decipher a couple words here and there, but most of it seems to be gibberish. Maybe because it's broken and half's missing."

"Pity," the Camo Ranger said. "Might be kinda cool to figure it out when no one else has been able to."

"Hmm."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

A flicker of milky white light briefly illuminated the museum lobby, then faded.

Golden eyes flicked back and forth, surveying the room, finding nothing of interest. Charcoal-gray robes swished and polished black nails tapped against the hard tile floor as padded paws made their way through the rooms, surveying the objects on display. The end of a ceremonial staff made sharp rapping sound as it struck the tiles, echoing off the walls.

Strange, hairless bipedal creatures infested this place.

_Humans,_ he recalled, his sensitive nose wrinkling in distaste. _They're called humans. _He paused, eyeing one as he passed. It gawked up at him in slack-jawed awe. _Disgusting animals. I can't even tell if it's male or female. Or other. And are they all so short? _The height of the doorways implied that they came much taller. This one must have been a juvenile, then. A larva. _At least there don't seem to be many here. I'd hate to have to wade my way through an entire swarm of these._

The searcher paused at an oblong, stone box, carved into the vague likeness of one of these 'human' animals. Perhaps what he sought was inside.

At a gesture of his white-furred paw, the glass surrounding the sarcophagus shattered. A further gesture, and the case opened, the lid prying itself from the sarcophagus and falling to the ground with an enormously loud clatter.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Hey, check these out," Jareth said, drawing his friend's attention to a pair of ceramic jars that stood within a glass display case.

"Canopic jars," Fox read. "These are what they put Mr. Pharaoh's organs in after they removed them."

"Stomach," Jareth observed, checking the placard that identified the jar whose lid resembled a jackal's head. "And…intestines," he added, examining the falcon-headed jar. "Gross. And yet…strangely compelling."

"Which organs do you think the other three contained?"

"Let's ask. Hey, Ms. Falstaff!"

Getting the teacher's attention, Jareth posed their inquiry.

"That's…actually a very good question," the teacher allowed, seeming quite surprised that the two troublemakers had taken enough of an interest in the subject matter to care. She called over the guide and the question was repeated again.

"The other three jars house Assyrus-Ra's liver, lungs, and brain," he replied.

"How come not the heart?" Fox wondered.

"The Egyptians believed that the heart was the seat of the soul," the guide replied. "So it was left in the body while it was mummified."

"Funny. I'd have figured the soul to be in the brain."

"The ancient Egyptians believed that the brain's only purpose was to produce mucous. That's why it was liquefied, drained out through the nose, and thrown away. Assyrus-Ra is the only known mummy to have its brain preserved at all. No one knows why, and we've never found it."

"Then how do you know it was?" Jareth challenged.

"Not all of Assyrus-Ra's records are written in that dialect," the guide replied, gesturing at the tablet. "A number of them are recorded in more conventional languages, which is how we know the story of Assyrus-Ra. Among these are the records of his mummification, which clearly depict five jars, one of which is indicated to house his brain."

"Huh," Jareth said, digesting this information. He turned to Fox. "Now, why do you suppose…"

SMASH!

Thirty-odd heads turned at the sound of glass shattering in the next room. The heavy THUD of sandstone striking tile followed.

The shrill sound of alarms going off suddenly split the air.

"What in the hells?" The Guide demanded.

The group started crowding around the doorway to see what had caused the noise.

"Everyone freeze!" Falstaff commanded.

Thoroughly conditioned to Do As Teacher Says, the class froze.

Her strides swift and sure, the teacher made her way through the room, the crowd parting before her like water before a shark's fin.

Jareth and Fox exchanged a worried glance.

"Back door?" Jareth muttered.

"Back door," Fox agreed.

The two began to quietly inch away from the crowd.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The seeker flinched as an earsplitting racket filled the air. He looked around, but was unable to locate the source…it seemed to be coming from the ceiling.

A quick word of prayer, and his sensitive ears were immune. Good. Now for the box.

Nothing inside but a carcass.

_These creatures put their dead on display? Revolting! Still…_

The dead had their uses.

Lifting his staff, he aimed the Symbol of Bathas that was cast in gold at its tip towards the ancient corpse. Soft white light began to flow like smoke from the symbol, spiraling down to envelope the mummified body.

There was a scream from the doorway. He turned his head sharply. A human stood in the doorway. If her facial expression was any indication, she was terrified.

He narrowed his golden eyes. She was nothing…an insignificant animal. But her screams might draw more humans en masse. In sufficient numbers, these creatures could interfere with his task.

He was still pondering what to do about the creature, when the corpse rose stiffly from his casket.

She screamed again….and passed out.

Well. That simplified things a bit.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

**"Zeo Ranger Six – Gold!"**

**"Zeo Ranger Eleven – Camo!"**

Two bright bursts of color lit up the alley behind the museum, the two teenagers transforming into their Ranger forms as they rushed out the back door. A shrill scream split the air, spurring them on. As fast as their enhanced legs could carry them, they rushed around the front and reentered the building through the main doors, rushing through the lobby, down the hall, and into the room that housed the Egyptian exhibit.

Their boots skidded to a halt as they arrived, taking in the scene before them.

Ms. Falstaff lay on the ground, unconscious.

The sarcophagus that housed the Pharaoh's corpse was open, the pharaoh himself sitting up and looking around curiously with his decrepit eye sockets.

And in front of this stood a wolf. A human-sized, white, fluffy wolf, standing on his hind legs, wearing dark charcoal-colored robes and wielding a weird staff topped with some sort of icon, glaring at them with burning gold eyes.

"Woah," Jareth summed up.

"W-what in the name of the gods…," the museum curator stammered, standing in the doorway to the adjoining room that held the Pharaoh's personal items.

The wolflike humanoid turned and regarded the two through narrowed eyes.

"Power Rangers," he growled.

"Get everyone out the back way," Fox suggested to the museum guide.

"Now," Jareth agreed.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

_It's green, _Deacon thought to himself, staring down at his lunch tray in disgust. _Chicken should not be green._

With a sigh, the Silver Ranger sat back and examined his tray, wondering if any of the items it contained were actually edible. The sounds of standard-issue cafeteria chaos enveloped him, bits and pieces of a dozen conversations jumbled together into an unintelligible haze of noise.

He was sitting alone today. Fox was off on some stupid trip…not that he could blame her for taking any excuse to get out of class…and he hadn't felt like sitting with the skater-punk crowd, so he had opted to find a secluded corner of the cafeteria and eat in relative peace.

Deciding that the pudding cup, being a sealed container, was probably safe, he peeled off the foil, gave the inside a lick, and started to tear the cellophane from the plastic spork he'd been issued.

_Beep beep beepbeep BEEP beep._

Deacon jumped, looking around in surprise for the source of the loud, high-pitched six-tone sound. He was surprised to see that no one else seemed to have heard it.

_Beep beep beepbeep BEEP beep._

_Oh. Right, _he thought to himself, remembering. Pushing back his hair, he pressed the spot behind his right ear.

"Rangers," Zord-1's voice rang throughout his head. "Please report to the Oasis."

The link closed. Deacon's eyes scanned the cafeteria, finally falling on the 'Jocks and Cheerleaders' table. One of the football players, a young man dressed in red, caught his gaze and nodded. He leaned forward and said something, probably making some excuse, then stood up and crossed the cafeteria.

Deacon got up from his seat and casually fell into step beside him.

"Ready to save the world?" Deacon asked quietly.

"Always."

Finding a secluded hall, the two checked for inquisitive eyes, and, finding none, pressed down on the chips embedded beneath their skin. In twin flashes of red and silver light, they were gone.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Angel stood, still and unmoving, in the pond that bordered the clearing in the woods where he made his home, the cold water reaching up to his knees. His hands were just beneath the surface, fingers swaying gently.

In a sudden move that split the surface the water, his hands darted forward, emerging from the cold liquid with a fat, struggling trout held between them.

"So sorry, friend," he told it. "Circle of life. You understand."

_Beep beep beepbeep BEEP beep._

Transferring the helpless fish to one hand, the tribal outcast activated his comchip.

"Trouble?" he asked.

"I'm afraid so," Zord-1 replied.

"On my way."

Angel closed the link, then looked at his fish contemplatively.

"Seems it's not your fate to die today, after all. Perhaps tomorrow."

He tossed the fish carelessly over his shoulder, where it fell into the pond and gratefully swam away. Making his way to the shore, he quickly got dressed, pulling on a pair of long, baggy jean shorts and an oversized gray shirt. He didn't bother with shoes… wouldn't have even if he'd owned any.

"I will never get used to this," he declared, triggering his teleport and vanishing in a gray flash of light.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Nice garden," Kalen commented, striding into one of the lower levels of the Oasis, the doors opening automatically before her.

"Thanks," Terina replied, watering a long, rectangular, waist-high planter filled with yellow-gold flowers. "Shouldn't you be in school? It's the middle of the day."

"I'm taking a mental health day," the Purple Ranger replied, smelling one of the curious flowers.

"Ex-fiance still hounding you to get back together?"

Kalen grimaced. "Unfortunately, the 'mourning the dead family' excuse only buys you time for so long." She shook her head. "I may have to brutally crush the poor boy," she added offhandedly.

"I'm sure you'll find the heart somehow," the diminutive alien replied sardonically.

"What kind of flowers are these?" Kalen inquired.

"Suntigers," Terina replied. "Last ones in the world."

"They came from Eltar? The Oasis has storage pods for seeds?"

"Um…no, actually. When I first came out of stasis, this place was a disaster. Choked with weeds, overgrown, some plants barely alive. I cleaned it up best as I could, but I thought all the suntigers had died out. Then I found one little flower, still growing over in the corner. Tenacious little critter." She smiled sadly. "Kind of like me. Last one of its kind."

"Very metaphorical," Kalen agreed. "Hmm. 'The Last Suntiger'. Almost sounds like a Disn-"

An earsplitting siren sounded, dome-lights popping down from the ceiling and strobing brightly.

"This happen often?" Kalen demanded, hands over her ears.

Terina nodded grimly.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Rah!" Jareth yelled, rushing forward and leaping foot-first at the wolflike creature.

One white-furred paw shot up, catching the Gold Ranger by the boot, somehow holding him suspended in mid-air.

"Woah!" the Gold Ranger cried as the alien effortlessly flipped him around and seized him by the throat.

"Where is the map?" he demanded.

"What map?" Jareth asked, bewildered.

The grip around his neck tightened. "I will not repeat myself, Ranger."

Jareth held a hand to his ear. "Excuse me?"

"I said, 'I will not'-" The monster stopped mid-sentence, glaring at the smirking Ranger in his grip.

Jareth chuckled.

With a furious growl, he flung the Ranger away like a ragdoll, Jareth's gold-armored body tearing a rough hole through the museum wall. Through the hole came a bright flash of golden light, a sure sign that Jareth's morph had failed.

"Jareth!" Fox drew the Zeo Saber from her hip and snapped it out to its full length, leaping at the wolflike alien, swinging her weapon down in a powerful slice.

There was a loud crash and a shower of strange sparks as her blade-baton struck the monster's staff, which he quickly brought up, holding it horizontally in both furry white hands.

Fox jumped back, then darted in again, this time swinging to side in an attempt to catch her opponent in the ribs, but instead of impacting fur and flesh, her weapon passed harmlessly through a monster-shaped cloud of milky white fog.

The Camo Ranger blinked as the cloud dissipated, dissolving before her eyes.

_"Destroy them,_" the monster's voice commanded. _"And bring me that map fragment!"_

"Hey! Get back here! I wasn't done with-"

"Uuuuuuh….."

Fox spun around to see the mummy, sitting upright in his sarcophagus, turn to face her. There was the sound of fabric straining, and then tearing as Assyrus-Ra's arms tore their way through the bandages that secured them across his chest.

He lunged at the Camo Ranger, who jumped back to avoid being grabbed.

"Woah! Down boy." Fox whipped out her Zeo Blaster and combined it with her baton, forming a rifle.

An array of rainbow-colored light flashed across the walls of the room as the other Rangers materialized behind her, fully morphed.

"Are we late for the party?" Deacon asked, twirling his staff. The red orb that sat atop the plus-shaped Silver Zeo symbol at the end flashed brightly.

"Just in time," Fox replied.

Assyrus-Ra grabbed the side of his coffin and jumped out, landing on the ground in a crouch, his dehydrated skin crackling as he flexed his joints, flakes of dead material falling to the ground. He let out a deep, rasping groan, rising to his feet. He gestured imperiously at them, his regal bearing apparent in his posture, and the Rangers flinched, expecting some sort of supernatural attack.

Apparently, so had Assyrus-Ra, and he was just as surprised as the Rangers when none came. He looked at his mummified fingers in bafflement.

"Looks like wolf-boy backed the wrong horse," Fox quipped.

"Take him down," Deacon suggested dismissively.

Six blasts of Ranger-colored light flashed forth, five beams of Zeo-Rifle fire and one stream of silver fire from Deacon's staff.

Assyrus-Ra leapt aside with surprising agility for a six-thousand-year old corpse, allowing the attack to strike his sarcophagus, blasting his eternal resting place into a pile of sandstone rubble.

The pharaoh quickly rolled to his feet and rushed over to the doorway that led to the other mummy-related exhibits, bending down and picking up the inert body of Ms. Falstaff. He held her in a chokehold as he backed towards the door, clearly threatening to break her neck if the Rangers followed.

Kalen raised her rifle anyway, taking aim.

"How badly do we want her kept alive?" she asked.

"Um…not very, really," Fox answered honestly.

Bobby laid a hand on Kalen's gun, forcing the barrel down. "No," he reprimanded. "Let him go."

The Purple Zeo Ranger sighed, tapping her foot impatiently.

There was a groan from the next room.

"Oh my gods, Jareth!" Fox ran towards the sound to find the demorphed Gold Ranger, lying amidst the shattered remains of the display case he'd been looking in previously. Broken glass lay scattered over the floor, as well as numerous jewels, gems, and crystals.

"You okay, bro?" Deacon asked, appearing alongside Fox and helping the fallen Ranger to his feet.

"Ooh…pink bunnies…"

"Okay, that's a no," the Camo Ranger surmised. Between her and Deacon, they managed to lead the staggering Ranger back into the Assyrus-Ra exhibit room with the others. "You're bleeding. A lot."

Noting a shard of glass embedded in his forehead, Fox reached over to pull it out, only to have Jareth flinch and draw back when she touched it. "Ow." He brought his own fingers to the shard, grimacing but not trying to remove it. "Damn. That's gonna scar." He blinked, clearing his head. "Where's the wolf?"

"Wolf?" Terina asked. "You mean mummy."

"There was a wolf. He left. The mummy went thataway," Fox reported. "Took Falstaff as a hostage."

"Grr. Mummy." Jareth wiped some of the tangled, bloodstained hair from his face and started towards the door to the chamber into which Assyrus-Ra had retreated, limping slightly.

"You sure you're…," Deacon started.

**"Zeo Ranger Six-Gold!"**

There was a burst of golden light as the Gold Ranger's armor appeared.

"..okay," Deacon finished. He glanced at the others and shrugged.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Assyrus-Ra dragged the terrified human into the room, ignoring its screams of horror, fervently wishing it had stayed unconscious.

Something was wrong. Something was…missing. His skin was dry, his body brittle, his powers gone. And worst of all, he couldn't _think_. He couldn't remember anything, nothing connected. All he knew was that he was being attacked, attacked by seven strangers in multicolored armor.

_Destroy them._

The pharaoh shook his head, the ancient bandages crumbling as he did.

_Bring me the map._

Frantically, the mummy spun around, forgetting the human, letting her fall to the floor to scramble away like an insect. He searched for the source of the voice, but saw no one.

_Destroy them. Bring me the map._

It wasn't much, but it was the only concrete thought that he was capable of. The words kept running through his head, over and over again, the language strange but the meaning clear as crystal.

_Destroy them. Bring me the map._

But how? If he attacked, they would destroy him. His powers had left him, he had nothing. And there was nothing here that could…

There.

The world was blurred to his rotten eyes, but two things stood out, shimmering like stars, their outlines the only things that were distinct. A pair of ceramic jars. _His _jars.

"Hey!"

The mummy spun, easily identifying the location of _this_ voice…it belonged to the gold-armored figure in the doorway.

"Drop the teacher and get back in your…okay, halfway there…now get back in your box."

"Get her out of here," Deacon suggested, gesturing to the teacher, who was huddled in the corner. He nudged Jareth aside and readied his staff. "I got this."

The Silver Ranger leapt forward, attacking with the bladed end of his weapon.

Again, moving with surprising speed for a decrepit corpse, Assyrus-Ra sidestepped the blow, allowing the Silver Ranger's blow to strike the display case behind him, the glass shattering loudly.

The other Rangers winced at the sound, as did Deacon.

"Oops. Um…okay, if anyone asks, the mummy did that," he said. "Hey!" he added as Assyrus-Ra rudely shoved him aside, grabbing the canopic jars from the smashed case.

Deacon took a few steps back, moving to stand alongside the Rangers as they spread out to surround the mummy in a half-circle. The mummy held his jars aloft triumphantly.

"Okay…is he planning to throw those at us, or what?" Terina asked.

"If you knew what was in them, that idea would probably scare you a lot mo-" Fox broke off her thought mid-sentence as the air in the room began to swirl, a glowing circular glyph appearing on the ground beneath Assyrus-Ra's feet.

As the golden rune on began to spin, an eerie nimbus of light began to shine from the canopic jars in the mummy's hands, their glow crawling up his arms and entering his lower torso. After a moment, the glyph faded and the strange light died out abruptly, the jars crumbling to dust in his hands.

There was an expectant pause, the mummy staring at the Rangers haughtily, as though it had just won.

"What was he trying to do?" Bobby asked. 'And…do you think it worked?"

Kalen nudged the Gold Ranger. "Let's find out. Jareth, sic 'im."

"My pleasure," he replied, conjuring his own staff. "Battle cry!" he yelled, leaping at the mummy, swinging his weapon.

Assyrus-Ra raised an arm towards the airborne Ranger, but this time, something happened…namely, flames erupted from his hand, a concentrated fireball blasting forth from the mummy's decayed fingers and catching the Gold Ranger in the chest. The blast knocked him from the air, sending him flying against the back wall, where hung the golden tablet.

Jareth slid to the ground, winded, then let out an "Oof!" as the slab of heavy metal slipped its hangings and fell down painfully into his lap.

"Yep," Terina said. "It worked."

"Remember when I said 'Take him down'?" Deacon asked.

"Yeah?" Fox recalled.

"Let's do that now."

"Kay," she replied.

The Six Rangers still standing dove into battle, attacking the mummy from all sides. Assyrus-Ra defended himself with fireballs, as well as flaming punches and kicks.

_Destroy them. _

_"_Rrrrrgh!" Letting out a hollow roar, the pharaoh redoubled the heat from the flames engulfing his hands, spinning around with his arms straight out to create a wide ring of intense flames, forcing the Rangers back. Ever after the undead king stopped spinning, the ring of fire remained, expanding to force the Rangers back and keep them at bay.

Spinning to a halt as the Rangers retreated, the heat overwhelming even through their armor, the mummy held out a hand, crumbling fingers wide. A speck appeared in his hand, widening, lengthening, growing longer as more material was added to it, becoming a long, ornate golden scepter as the long-dead king willed more material to be added.

"Big deal," Deacon said. "I've got one of those."

The mummy glared balefully out at the Silver Ranger through his rotten eye sockets, beckoning a challenge.

Deacon stared at the gesture in surprise. "Okay," he said confidently. "You're on."

Flipping as he leapt over the circle of fire, Deacon landed in a fighting stance directly in front of the pharaoh, staff at the ready.

Assyrus-Ra's scepter erupted into intense flames as he struck at his opponent, Nearly knocking him back into the ring of flames. Deacon whirled his arms, regaining his balance just before he would have toppled over backward into the ultrahot fire.

A flaming swipe came at his head, and the Silver Ranger ducked, allowing it to pass harmlessly over him.

Squinting through his visor and the rippling of the broiling air, Deacon stuck out a leg and spun, knocking Assyrus-ra's feet out from under him. The pharaoh let out a rough cry from his ruined vocal chords as he fell, his head striking the tiled floor of the museum.

His concentration disrupted, the circle of flame faded, the thick band of fire withering and dying out. The mummy shook his head, dislodging organic dust from the folds of his bandages, looking up to see the other Rangers moving in.

With an irritated hiss, he laid a hand on the ground. A surge of power rippled through the tile, and before the others knew it, the ground beneath their feet had turned to vapor, plunging them into a deep, circular pit.

Turning his attention back to Deacon, the mummy rolled aside, just in time to avoid a downward thrust that would have speared him through the head. Rising to his feet, Assyrus-Ra leveled his golden scepter at Deacon and began launching spheres of blue-white flame. The Silver Ranger ducked, spun, and cartwheeled, evading each blast, the bolts of flame soaring past him to explode against the walls and hangings of the museum.

Something flashed out of the corner of the mummy's eye, and he froze. He held up a hand in Deacon's direction, no fiery attack this time, but the universal symbol for "Wait!"

Deacon paused. "What? A time out? Are you kidding me?"

The mummy paid him no mind. His attention was on Jareth.

_Bring me the map._

The Gold Ranger was climbing to his feet, a bit dizzy from the blow, and, he suspected, more than a little blood loss.

"Hrrrrgh!" Assyrus-Ra demanded, holding out his hand towards Jareth in the universal gesture for "Give!"

Jareth blinked at him, puzzled, then glanced down at the broken golden tablet he still held. Curious, he held it up and pointed to it, using the universal gesture for "What, this?"

"Give!" the mummy gestured again, imperiously, taking a step towards him.

Jareth held the tablet to his chest, shaking his head in the universal gesture for "Nah-uh!"

The mummy took another step in Jareth's direction, but stopped as Deacon's staff was suddenly held out horizontally before him, barring his way.

His decayed eyes traveled from the staff against his chest, over to the Silver Ranger standing off to the side.

"Rggh…"

Clapping a hand onto the Silver Power Staff, The mummy worked his power on the air, causing it to transform into thick tendrils of metal, coils of solid steel that snaked over the weapon, up Deacon's arms and around his entire body.

"Hey!" Deacon struggled against the metal coils, but they were rigid, ensnaring his torso and limbs and holding him in place. He strained, exerting his Ranger-enhanced strength, but the bars refused to bend. He was effectively immobilized.

The mummy calmly planted a hand on his helmet and shoved.

"Waugh!" the Silver Ranger yelled, toppling over onto his back with a loud clatter. "Ooh, you're gonna regret this…," he growled at the ceiling, unable to turn his head.

Assyrus-Ra returned his attention to Jareth…just in time to take the golden tablet to the head. The mummy spun with the force of the blow; it was a wonder his calcified neck had managed to hold his head to his body. Staggering to a halt, the pharaoh stumbled, regaining his balance. He glared at the Gold Ranger through the eyeholes in his bandages.

"Hey, you wanted it," Jareth reminded him.

The mummy breathed an infuriated growl, raising his scepter…but a whistle sounded from the other end of the room.

He turned to see the other five Rangers, finally having climbed free from the hole into which he'd dropped them, each one having his or her Zeo Rifle trained on him.

Assyrus-Ra froze…then, before any of them could react, he grabbed Jareth, tablet and all, and heaved him at his friends.

"Woah!" Jareth cried, as he was used as a projectile, flying into the other Rangers, knocking down the lot of them, the group winding up in a painful heap of armored bodies.

"He's getting away!" Terina yelled, struggling to disentangle herself from the pile.

"What's going on?" Deacon demanded, struggling. "I can't see!"

The mummy raced to the back of the room, and, finding the door locked, threw himself against it a couple times. Finally, in desperation, he planted a hand against it. Translucency spread from his palm as he turned the steel to glass, then, with a single shattering blow from his scepter, he escaped into the alley behind the museum.

"After him!" Bobby yelled, as the Rangers finally managed to separate.

Sirens split the air. The Rangers froze, realizing for the first time the state of the room. Display cases were shattered, there were holes in the walls, curtains were on fire…to say nothing of the shattered door and the enormous hole in the middle of the floor.

"I think we should be leaving," Kalen suggested. She strode over to Deacon and touched her fingers against his visor, teleporting away in a flash of Silver and Purple light, leaving behind the person-shaped metal frame.

"When you're right, you're right," Bobby said. "Back to the ship, guys. We'll catch up with the dead guy later."

More lights flashed, leaving the room empty and motionless except for the small fires still burning here and there.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"So, mind telling us what all that was about?" Kalen asked, as the group reappeared on the bridge of the Oasis.

"Some wolf-monster brought a mummy to life to look for this," Fox replied, taking the golden tablet from Jareth and holding it up. "From what he said, I gather it's the other half to some map."

"I have often wondered why, if Lord Zedd was in possession of Medelon's map, he had not simply claimed the Power Coins and moved on," Zord-1 chimed in. "His lacking the complete map would go a long way towards explaining his actions."

"Lemme see that," Terina said, taking the slab from the Camo Ranger. She raised an eyebrow at it. "Doesn't look Eltarian to ME. But then, it _was_ Medelon's. He was always a strange one, by all accounts."

"I tried to read it, but I couldn't make it out," the Gold Ranger reported, hopping to one of the chairs and sitting down.

"You thought you could read this?" Bobby asked incredulously, eyeing the tablet over Terina's shoulder. "How?"

"It's a gift," he replied, tensely, undoing his shoelaces.

"Jareth?" Angel asked. "Why are you limping?"

"Something in my boot," he replied. "I think it's a piece of glass from that stupid display case."

"Shatterproof my ass, huh?" Deacon surmised.

"Well, my ass shattered it," Jareth replied, pulling off his boot and shaking out a small, transparent shard into his hand. He glanced at it, looked away, did a double-take, and then quickly tucked the jagged piece into his pocket.

"Your head is bleeding," Terina said. She leaned in for a closer look. "In fact, there's a shard of glass sticking out of it."

"That would explain the searing pain," Jareth agreed.

"Hold still," Fox commanded, seizing his head and grabbing the shard between two fingers. It was in deep…not deep enough to hit skull, but deep enough to leave a nasty scar. Fortunately, his hair would cover it. She gave it a yank, pulling it free. Blood immediately started pouring down the side of his face.

"Ow," he said.

"I think this'll need stitches," the Camo Ranger said.

"Perhaps one of you should escort him to the medbay," Zord-1 suggested.

"We have a medbay?" Deacon asked.

"Indeed. A fully equipped medical facility."

"Let's hope we don't need to use it too often," Bobby muttered.

"Oh, relax," Jareth said, as Fox led him from the room. "How many times can a person get thrown through a wall?"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"You failed."

The mummy spun around, his hands burning…but lowered them when he saw the white-furred wolf-man standing behind him.

"And yet, you show promise," the wolflike creature intoned. "Never have I seen powers like yours. You may yet make a powerful servant."

"Rrrrgh," Assyrus-Ra growled. Something about the word 'servant' made him balk, but he couldn't think what. He still couldn't _think_. Why couldn't he think?

"Those jars…they hold your powers, do they not?"

"Rrrgh."

"Then we shall have to find the rest of them. Come."

Raising his staff, the creature conjured a stream of white mist that filled the dingy alley, obscuring everything.

When it faded, they were gone.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"And you say that the mummy demonstrated neither pyrokinesis nor transmutation until _after_ he had absorbed the canopic jars?" Zord-1 asked.

"That's right," Bobby replied.

"You think he gains a new power from each jar?" Terina asked, her elfin features twisted into a contemplative frown.

"That appears to be the case," Zord-1 agrees. "Although I cannot imagine what the mechanism for such a process would be."

"Magic?" Kalen suggested flatly.

"Unlikely," Zord-1 replied. "The only magic the Oasis' sensors were able to detect within that museum was that of the wolf-creature that Jareth and Fox battled prior to your arrival. The pharaoh himself does not resonate with any magical influences, other than slight traces of the enchantment that grants him life."

Bobby squinted, trying to absorb this. "You're saying that, all of the stuff that guy did…_none _of that was magic?"

"Correct."

"Weird."

"What about that wolf-creature?" Deacon piped up. "How's he fit into all this?"

"Bio-scans have confirmed that he is a Zornian," the computer replied. The screen at the front of the room lit up with a medical scan of a nude Zornian male. "They are a humanoid race evolved from creatures not unlike Terran wolves. The symbol on the end of his staff is the sign of Bathas, the Zornian god of royalty, meaning he is most likely a priest in service to the royal family of Zorn." The computer paused. "It is strange, however, to see a Zornian active."

"What do you mean?" the Silver Ranger inquired, eyes on the symbol of Bathas that currently occupied the screen.

"Zorn is frozen solid," Terina informed him. "About a hundred years or so before the Battle of Eltar, someone used powerful magic to encase the entire planet in dark crystal. Froze the entire Zornian race. Nobody knows why."

As she spoke, Zord-1's screen produced an image of a planet not unlike Terra, except that it was mostly snow-covered land and very little ocean. As they watched, a wave of indigo flames raced over the planet's surface, covering it in blue-black crystal, leaving it looking jagged, spikey and uninviting.

"So…this Zornian must have left the planet prior to that," Angel surmised. "Making him at least six hundred years old."

"Unlikely," the computer said again. "Not only did the Zornian race lack the technology for interstellar travel, their lifespan was no longer than that of the average human."

"Maybe he was the one who did it," Kalen muttered. "Anyway, whoever he is, this Zornian obviously has magical powers. Maybe that makes him live longer."

"It is not uncommon for a mage to utilize his magical powers to prolong his life," Zord-1 agreed. "Those few that survive their first few years of magehood, anyway."

"Could the magic also explain how he got off his planet before it turned into a Yule tree ornament?" Deacon asked.

"Using magic to escape from a planet's gravity well can be…problematic," the computer replied. "Especially since few sentient creatures have the capacity to calculate interstellar cartography in their heads. But yes, it _is _possible."

"Okay, so…our enemies are a mysterious six-hundred-year-old alien who can raise the dead, and a pharaoh with non-magical superpowers," Bobby summed up.

"Not to mention the monsters who have been randomly attacking people down in Destiny," Deacon reminded him.

"I do not believe that there is anything random about those attacks, Rangers," Zord-1 said. "Like Kalen, those specific individuals were likely targeted for a reason. I shall try to gather more information on Assyrus-Ra and this mysterious Zornian. In the meantime, I advise you to investigate anyone claiming to have been attacked. Seek to gain their trust. Find out what they know."

"Has anyone come forward with such a claim?" Angel asked.

"Now that you mention it, yes," the computer replied. One of the consoles came to life, a slip of paper printing itself out and extruding through a slot in the control panel. Angel grabbed it and tore it off, reading.

"Hmm. An Enforcer. At 16? Impressive."

"Quite," the computer agreed. "You will find that his record speaks for itself. He completed his marksmanship training…a course that normally takes three weeks…in an hour. His instructor went on record as saying that there was absolutely nothing that he could teach him."

Deacon let out a low whistle. "And he says he was attacked?"

"According to this, he claims to have killed the monster," Angel replied. "It's why his perp got away. His superiors don't know what to make of it, since he's always been a model officer. They're recommending he take a vacation."

"Please explain to me how people fail to notice these giant monsters?" Deacon asked.

"They have yet to make any grand, public appearances. And most of their attacks fail to leave much in the way of evidence. Furthermore, I, myself, have been taking measures to prevent public panic…for example, it was I that obscured the news reports of Klepto's activities down in Miami," the computer informed them.

"And the missing people?"

"Thus far, not including the tribe you accidentally slaughtered last week, there have been no more than five confirmed monster-related deaths. They are simply considered 'missing'."

"I think we need to have a little talk with Officer Harper," Terina suggested, standing up, hands on her hips. "Deacon, how about you and I…"

"I think Deacon and Bobby ought to be getting back to class," Kalen interrupted.

Almost in unison, Deacon and Bobby cursed, jumping to their feet.

"We gotta go," Bobby said, turning and heading for the door. As he left, he turned to Deacon. "Dammit. You and I have _got _to stop going to the bathroom together and not coming back for hours. People are starting to talk."

Terina shook her head as the door closed behind them. "Okay. _Angel _and I can go talk to the cop," she said. "That is, if Angel is willing…?"

The large teenager nodded solemnly.

"Kalen? You coming?" the Eltarian asked.

The Purple Ranger shook her head. "Think I'll stay and help Jareth and Fox with their excuse," she said.

"Their excuse for what?"

"For not being dead," Kalen replied. "When they turn up for class tomorrow after missing the head count that their tour group undoubtedly took when it left the museum."

"Ooh. Good point," Terina replied. "Okay. Zord-1? Teleport us to Officer Harper's house, please."

The two of them vanished, yellow and gray light briefly brightening the ship's Bridge.

Kalen sighed, standing up. "So," she said. "Which way to the medbay?"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"You sure you know what you're doing?" Jareth asked warily, eying the needle in his friend's hand.

"Sure," she said. "Well…no. Not really. But that gash has got to be closed up. You know that."

"Not necessarily," the Gold Ranger replied evasively. "I could wear a hat."

"Just hold still."

"No! Get away from me. Can I get an actual doctor, please? Someone who's actually _had _medical training?"

"The Oasis does have a full complement of training material," Zord-1's voice informed them.

Fox jumped…she'd forgotten that the computer could as easily talk to them in the medbay as it could in the Bridge.

"I don't have time to _study," _she argued. "We've got to sew up that gash before it gets infected and your brain rots."

Kalen, just entering the room, paused. "Having fun?" she asked, taking in Jareth's reluctance to be treated with a smirk.

"Oodles," Fox snapped.

"There is really no need for study," Zord-1 said. "I can simply upload the information into your memory via your comchip."

This gave all three Rangers pause.

"You…you're saying that you can just…download skills into our minds?" the Camo Ranger repeated incredulously.

"Correct," Zord-1 replied. "I used the word 'upload' out of courtesy, but the fact is, I am _more _advanced than a human brain, technically making it a download."

"I don't think it was your word choice she was struggling with," Jareth quipped.

"Okay…so, do it. Hook me up," Fox said. "I want every piece of medical training you've got."

"As you wish."

Fox's eyes widened.

"Well?" Jareth asked, after a moment. "Did it work?"

"Oh, yeah," she replied quietly, mentally reviewing everything she'd just learned.

It had been amazing…one moment she'd been completely in the dark…and now, she just _knew. _She knew how to clamp. She knew how to suture. She knew how to perform an appendectomy. She knew how to deliver a baby. She knew how to lance a boil, how to draw blood, how to set a broken femur. She knew the name for each and every bone, muscle and organ in the human body. She knew what the word _antipyretic_ meant. She knew what sort of thread to use for an internal suture, she knew how to perform open-heart surgery. She knew the names for pieces of medical equipment she'd never even seen before…some things she suspected _no one_ on Terra had ever seen before. She knew how to treat conditions of organs that she was pretty sure humans didn't have.

To be honest, it was all just a little overwhelming.

She adjusted her grip on the sewing needle…she'd been holding it wrong.

"Okay," she said confidently. "I know what I'm doing. NOW will you hold still?"

Jareth paused, taking note of the unmistakable confidence in her voice.

"Suuuure."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Okay…so…what do we say to this guy?" Terina wondered. As she and Angel stood before a small house, located towards the back of an obscure Destiny neighborhood. "Do we just walk in and say, "Hi, I'm an alien and this is my friend, we're supernatural warriors and we wondered if you knew anything about why that monster attacked you last night?"

Angel shot her a bemused look. "To be honest, I rather thought you had something in mind already." He considered. "Perhaps we could approach him as Rangers? He's an Enforcer. They respect uniforms, yes?"

Terina considered, but shook her head. "Let's try as ourselves, first."

Angel shrugged.

The two of them approached the door. Angel reached out and rang the doorbell.

Immediately, loud barks boomed out from the other side of the door. Terina jumped, startled, her already wide eyes widening further.

"It's just a dog," Angel said, eyeing her strangely.

"I hate dogs," the alien girl snapped.

"Kaia! Quiet down. Gods, you always do this." The door opened, and a young man peered curiously out at them, one hand on the collar of an enormous German Shepherd. He gazed at them with piercing blue eyes, his thick black hair closely cropped to his head and gelled into small spikes. His outfit was basic, a black T-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. "Can I help you?"

"Are you Officer Harper?" Terina asked.

"Yes. Who are you?"

"My name is Angel, and this is Terina," the Gray Ranger replied softly. "Sir, we'd like to talk to you, if we could, about the incident that occurred last night."

The officer's eyes narrowed. "How do you know about that?" he asked suspiciously.

"May we come in?"

The Enforcer appeared to consider for a moment, before stepping back, pulling Kaia away from the door so that the two could enter.

The inside of the house was decorated in a manner that suggested that the occupant had a limited income, but was determined to do the best he could with what he had. The furniture was simple, probably secondhand, but tastefully matched and arranged. A good deal of the decorating budget had clearly gone towards the entertainment center that occupied one corner of the living room. Various awards and medals decorated one wall, including a small (but real) gun in a glass display case.

Kaia stayed near her master's feet, growling softy at Terina, who warily kept her distance.

"You guys want anything to drink?" Officer Harper offered entering the small kitchenette that stood just off the living room.

"Water, please," Angel replied.

"Make that two," Terina agreed.

"Well, you guys are easy," the Enforcer muttered. He opened the fridge and produced two bottles, tossing them to his guests. Angel caught his easily, Terina fumbled slightly.

"So," he said, sitting across from them. "What do you know about what happened to me last night?"

"Little. We understand that you were attacked by a strange creature."

"Officer Harper-" Terina began.

"Please," the Enforcer said. "Call me Troy."


End file.
